


Markings

by OwlFlight



Series: Soulmarks [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, M/M, Multi, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-18 11:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5927386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlFlight/pseuds/OwlFlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles and side-fics to the main Soulmates storyline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Most of these are in responses to prompts on tumblr.

**Welcome to the Empire, Obi-Wan Kenobi.**

_You have no idea how much we’ve wanted to meet you._

The first sentence is scrawled in neat, almost mechanical handwriting down the soft flesh of his inner right arm. The second is nestled beneath it, elegant swirls lending it a delicate, almost disingenuous air.

Obi-Wan finds himself staring at his soulmarks quite a lot these days.

He’s spent the majority of his life trying to avoid looking at them, to be honest. The redhead has dim, almost faded memories of the creche, of a time when empire was a foreign word to be puzzled over. The transition to _sharp-pain-fear-run!_ is seared undeniably in his memory.

It was the transition that also prompted his teachers and the few remaining Jedi to begin _looking_ at him, something strange and distrustful flaring behind their eyes. The words on his arm - they were supposed to be a private matter, something entered into his medical records as a matter-of-course and protected under healer-patient confidentiality.

Except suddenly his words had assumed a greater importance then previously suspected. One that invited suspicion down upon him in turn.

 _Xanatos._ The whisper came. His Master had already let one of his padawans Fall; how much easier would it be another to follow the same dark path?

The whispers, the eyes, the outright suspicion that has followed him for nearly his entire life is a start contrast to his current circumstances.

The first time Obi-Wan sank onto the bed in his quarters, he was convinced that he was drowning. It took a determined effort to wrench himself free of the softness that had threatened to enfold him in its depths. And the room itself was - too big. Yes, far too big - the ornate draperies and wall hanging (all in his favorite colors, and how in the world had they discovered that?) were _not helping._

Neither was the frankly decadent ‘fresher. Complete with marble tiling, a bath tub inlaid with gold and what could only be mother-of-pearl, a water-shower so big he could have hosted a dinner party in its depths, and any number of shampoos and shaving implements…

Obi-Wan had nearly cried when Lady Vader _(call me Padme)_ had shown him to the on-ship library, replete with documents and accounts he’d thought lost with the Temple. Lord Vader _(burning gold eyes staring down at him, a smirk that conjured an answering pulse of heat and the fierce promise of possession)_ had had to practically drag him from its depths when he’d forgotten a meal for the third time in a row.

And he can’t even get _drunk_ in an attempt to ignore the determined pampering his soulmates are attempting to smother him in because the bottle sitting innocently to one side is Corellian brandy.

His favorite.


	2. Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Anonymous asked: if you're still doing prompts, for that soulmark obianidala verse: children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set prior to the Vader's discovery of Obi-Wan.

She dresses in black lace and velvet; obsidian gems dangle from her ears, rest in the warm hollow of her throat. The nobility that cringe at her footsteps tell her that they are not half as dark or as piercing as her eyes - the admission brings her no pleasure. They are hers to command, just as the military is the sole property and domain of her husband, and so would say anything in an attempt to please her.

(Anakin is the only person to tell her, when they tangle beneath their blankets, that her gems are not as bright or warm as her eyes.)

Imperial courtiers (and physicians) have also assured her that it is only a matter of time until she is capable of bearing a child. Padme has seen her husband looking almost fondly at the small beings that are paraded in the Imperial Court as Lord So-and-So’s heir - but it is not for her. Not for them.

Not until their Third makes them complete. She feels the gaping absence of his or her presence, and the bewildered desolation in Anakin’s face (He is Anakin to her. Always Anakin, and never Lord Vader) is all the reassurance she needs that *he* feels it as well. 

She will never bear a child. This too is recognized, unspoken, in her husband’s eyes. Not while the Emperor lives. Not when her children would be born to slavery and dictatorship, unable to even remember a world without propaganda and terror ruling the galaxy.

**Are you an angel?** The words are inscribed on the back of her neck, a wide, looping arch dipping down and back in a loose curve. Anakin’s words.

(He likes to kiss them.)

And on her wrist, beating with her pulse, concealed beneath heavy bracelets of jet and gold, are the first words her Third will speak to her.

**_Lady Vader._ **

And so she will be - until they are found.


	3. Brocade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She isn't pregnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Soulmate AU, Padme announces she's pregnant.

She isn’t pregnant.

Padme isn’t stupid enough to bring a child into _this_ \- and in this matter, at least, she and her husbands are of one mind. But the announcement buys them _time_ \- the news hit the various echelons of the Empire simultaneously, resulting in much the same reactions. An outpouring of support - genuine or otherwise. An outpouring of resentment - there are those who would much, much rather cut off the bloodline of Lord and Lady Vader before it has a chance to develop into a dynasty.

Every news agency in the Core and Mid-Rim is clamoring (politely) to be the first to interview her. Her security team is positively swamped by the number of gifts that have been sent to her - she politely requests that any presents be monetary in nature, and instead be donated to her favorite charities.

And the Emperor himself has sent his _personal_ congratulations.

In a month - perhaps two - she will let his pet physician examine her. He will find nothing - but the records of the medidroids that Anakin has oh-so-carefully adjusted will collaborate her story that she *was* pregnant. And it will be perfectly believable - a great deal of human women suffer from spontaneous miscarriages during the first trimester. She will mourn. And the galaxy will at least give the appearance of grieving with her.

Obi-Wan looks at her and Anakin as if he has never seen them before. In another life she might have found the subdued confusion in his eyes insulting - instead, Padme simply finds it sad, even as she basks in the uncomprehending gratitude currently suffusing his expression. 

Has no one ever even _tried_ to save him?

The galaxy weeps and laughs and celebrates her supposed pregnancy. The Emperor’s orders to present Lord and Lady Vader’s new-found Third to him are lost in the confusion.


End file.
